


I Will Be Blessed

by Lady_Ifrit



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Disabled Character, Chronic Illness, Disabled Character of Color, Gen, M/M, Original Character(s), Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-03-17 09:56:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18962935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ifrit/pseuds/Lady_Ifrit
Summary: The Kerberos mission is a success. Back on Earth, Shiro picks up his life where he left off.Or: the will-they-won’t-they fic that no-one asked for, about Shiro coping with life’s changes in the wake of his deteriorating health and the question of love





	1. Turn Your Face To The Sun

There was something about being in space and watching the sun crest over a planet not your own that was awe-inspiring in way that he could never find words for and had never ceased to amaze him. It was different for every planet - Pluto had been a cold and distant light, always a faint thin crescent over shaded pale-blue from the darkness of Kerberos and hazy in a cloud of dust and loose atmosphere; Neptune brighter, bluer, larger; Uranus gleaming with it vertical rings, all of them catching and reflecting the rays in harmony; Saturn glorious in it twisted axis, it's moons bright and rings even brighter; Jupiter stormy, gas clouds roiling beneath the light. And here Mars before him, dusty, fire-glazed red, its canyons looking deeper and darker in the encroaching light of the sun.

 

He floated, tether pulling taught - the only thing keeping him from floating free and lost in the infinite void of softly-lit velvet darkness. Shaded his face with his hand, a trembling bulky outline in his insulated space suit, dark against the swirling hues of the planet rising before him and the soft glow of the sun's light curving around it, bathing him in its glow. He felt small and insignificant and so in awe that it was overwhelming. After a year spent in the furthest reaches of the solar system, clutching at the shadow of Pluto, the light was almost dazzlingly bright. The most he'd seen in a long time. And soon, the little blue marble that was home would be spinning into view too.

 

They were going home. The dream was coming to a close.

 

His radio crackled to life. "How're the arrays looking, boys? Everything ok out there? We're in the home stretch now - can't have anything going wrong at this stage."

 

"All good at this end." Matt's voice, "How about you, Shiro?"

 

"One got bent, but I got it back in line. I think it got knocked as we were coming through the asteroid belt. The connection showing up ok, Sam?" his own voice echoed a little in his helmet, but he'd long gotten used to that.

 

"Everything's showing up as it should be on my monitor. Come on in, boys."

 

"Roger that, Sir." Matt echoed him.

 

One last lingering gaze, drinking in the view they were sailing past, and Shiro turned to pull himself back in from his space walk and head for the hatch back into the little craft that had been home for near two years. Once inside and divested of the bulky outer suit, he pulled himself along the corridors to the cockpit and took his place in the pilot's seat.

Commander Holt smiled at him from the co-pilot's chair beside him.

 

"We need to check in - we should be in visual range of Earth soon. Not much longer to go."

 

"Aw, man, I can't wait to get home! I can finally have a proper shower!" Matt pulled himself in and hit the pad to close the door behind with a soft swish.

 

Shiro smirked. "Tell me about it. I can't wait to finally stop smelling you."

 

"Excuse you! It's not like you smell of roses either!"

 

"None of us do, boys. We've had to conserve all our resources for two years, after all. Now buckle in and quiet down as I hail Home Base. Takashi, I'm trusting your judgement on our trajectory."

 

"I'm adjusting our velocity further as we curve through the Mars orbit, Sir. We'll be entering Earth's orbit within the day."

 

Sam Holt's hands moved over the console as Matt buckled himself in behind them. He opened an outgoing channel and spoke clearly into it.

 

"Persephone to Home Base, this is Commander Holt. We are flying by in five onto route six as agreed."

 

"Home Base to Persephone, this is Commander Iverson." The line crackled - even in this day and age, they'd never managed to solve that. "All routes are cleared for you. And from everyone here, we'd like to say, congratulations and welcome home."

 

"Thank you, Commander Iverson. We're not quite there yet, but we can't tell you how much we're looking forward to it."

 

Shiro focused his attention on the controls, letting the words wash over him as he started guiding their shuttle into form, ignoring the slight tremble in his hands that had developed a month ago and the jolt of his bracelet that he’d long since got used to. They'd been flying so fast for most of their journey back, but he'd been slowing them down considerably since they'd passed Jupiter's orbit, not only to be able to manoeuver through the asteroid belt, but to make sure they were able to get into the right trajectory to descend to Earth. Now he was mostly using gravitational pull to help them pass through Mars' orbit and around the Moon, slowing them further and further as Earth's blue sphere bloomed into view and they got closer and closer to the haze of the upper atmosphere.

 

Beside him, Sam was zooming in on the trajectory for the approved landing site in Arizona. Making a quick note of the land masses he could see, he adjusted their course smoothly. A breath of calm before he dipped them into the atmosphere and allowed the gravitational pull to suck them into an arcing freefall.

 

After so long without bearing the full force of gravity, the stomach-lifting feeling of descent was something sickening. Persephone rocked in turbulence and her heat shield held fast as the white blaze of atmospheric burn washed over them.

 

Mission control was guiding him into the approved flight route, had already worked to keep them clear for Persephone as she left a burning trail in her wake through the atmosphere and cloud layer until, finally, the runway was in sight. And as she slowed to a stop the roar of their cheers mingled with his own exhilarated cries, Matt's ecstatic whoops and Sam's elated laughter.

 

They'd done it.

 

The most ambitious mission in centuries and they'd pulled it off!

 

Sam reached for his hand and held it with a white-knuckled grip and behind them, Matt unbuckled himself to lean over in a tremendous push of effort and rest his hand over theirs, shaking in the new sensation of gravity. And Shiro could feel the grin threatening to split his face in half grow, heart beating euphorically, though his body now felt like it weighed a tonne. Commander Iverson's voice sounded through the comm.

 

"Welcome back, Persephone! Welcome home."

 

* * *

 

 

They were stretchered out of the space shuttle, their sudden and turbulent reintroduction to the full force of Earth's gravity, which the Persephone had never quite been able to replicate, and the fixed notion of up-and-down disorienting enough that they couldn't manage it under their own power. It was something every astronaut experienced when they came back to Earth, the effects increasing the longer their time in space - affectionately called the 'Space Wobbles'. It was why most postings were six months as a standard and only a year at the most.

 

The Kerberos mission had been one of the longest missions in the history of manned space exploration, due to the distance and scope. Two years would take a toll on anybody.

But that first breath of unfiltered air smelled so sweet after so long with only recycled oxygen. Even if it was filled with runway fumes as the breeze shifted. The breeze! And while there was a part of him that wished he could live the rest of his life floating among the stars and watching the sun crest over planets not his own, the other part - the part that had seen the Earth from outside its orbit and been breath-taken by its beauty - could only find joy in the warmth of the sun on his face and the feeling of homecoming.

 

The runway wasn’t empty, by any means - apart from Garrison personnelle, he could see a small crowd cordoned off at a safe distance made up of both spectators and press. He couldn’t make out all the faces among the flashing cameras, but there was one little figure leaning over the barrier and waving extremely enthusiastically, who looked like it could be the younger Holt. He thought he could see Keith next to her, but his attention was diverted almost immediately.  

 

Iverson met them on the runway, proud-eyed but stern-faced as ever, with a few bigwigs who had watched their return from Mission Control. He could see Admiral Sanda heading them. Shiro was thankful this was one of the few times they weren't expected to stand on ceremony in front of them, but he smiled, bright and vicious and proud. A shit-eating grin, Matt would call it.

 

He'd done it. Proved them all wrong. Surpassed every single one of their expectations and more. He knew that the landing they'd just seen had been better than textbook, it'd been so perfect, and that had only been the barest part of his performance that they'd seen. He was the best pilot the Garrison had ever produced and that was the reason he'd been picked for the mission, illness or no. There could be no doubt now - of his abilities or that he was the right pick. The crowd cheered before them.

 

"Congratulations, boys! You've made history, travelled to the edge of our solar system and advanced our knowledge of the universe. And you'll be telling us about it in three weeks time on the 21st. But for now, you know the drill for long-term space missions - two weeks mandatory leave and compliance with physical testing."

 

Well, that felt like a jab.

 

The Admiral nodded to them and turned, left with other higher-ranking officers to talk to the press until only Iverson remained with them, walking with them to medical facilities on-base. Their visit had been a courtesy, a moment to show who would soon be taking ownership of their achievements. The official debrief would take place in a few weeks, when the astronauts had recovered and were capable of the alertness required for it - until then, the ships logs and all their records and  transmissions would be poured over and analysed to be presented with some coherence when the time came.

 

But as they came to the end of the runway, Shiro tugged on the arm of the aide pushing him.

 

“Wait. I just need a moment, please.”

Turned back to look at the ship that had been home for the past two years of his life, that had borne him to the edge and back, that had been the vessel that had let him achieve his dreams as well as an incredible, historic scientific accomplishment.

 

The Persephone was _his_. No matter who else flew her in the future, she would always be his. And that was his last flight. He wouldn’t be cleared for any orbital flights again - his body wouldn’t be able to take the strain. He’d be lucky if he was allowed in the air for anything, even low altitude. But he wasn’t in the mood to mourn yet, heart too full of pride, because - for a last flight, that had been a pretty epic one. The feat of the century.

 

So he took one last moment to just look, hungry eyes memorizing every line and detail he could, at the way she stood proud where he’d landed her, her splendour undiminished by the trials of their journey.

 

Matt seemed to understand, and leaned over to place a hand on his shoulder, silent support. Shiro was glad that they let him have the time he needed without saying anything. When he was ready to turn away, he nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know those flashbacks were throw-away scenes, meant to drive in the point that Shiro was a doomed character from the beginning and the writers always meant to kill him off - but I wanted to play it straight. I want to do justice to the portrayal of disability, so would love your feedback - constructive criticism appreciated! I'm also in the market for a beta reader, if anyone feels like volunteering?


	2. Dream Catch Me

The journey between the runway and the med-bay was the last chance for respite they had - the tests began as soon as they were inside. They were rolled into the large, airy med-bay, filled with blue-scrubbed professionals bringing out charts and prodding them into tests of balance, vision, response time, coordination and so on.

Matt first, wobbling as he walked the line, veering off-course and having to stop before realigning. Then Sam, more practiced but with a body that was older and no longer at the peak of his fitness, taking a little longer and wobbling more. And then Shiro, who had been in peak condition when he'd left and had been careful to do his exercises and taken his medicine with strict regularity.

But the defiance that had filled him earlier had already turned to worry - he'd been very carefully not thinking about this for a while. That familiar anxiety loomed over him, a clock ticking down. He clenched his fists and tried to make himself focus. The tests were simple things and he'd always been able to make his body do what he wanted to before. It was just a matter of focus. He needed to be calm. Patient. Patience yields focus.

A deep breath. He braced himself. His body felt heavy, a weight he wasn't used to carrying in full anymore. Even breathing felt difficult, lungs slow to expand with renewed weight. All he had to do was walk a straight line - five meters, that's all. Lifting himself to his feet felt like a massive effort, and once he managed that, he stood shaking, feeling like the world was lurching around him. He made it two steps before he fell, his knees buckling and giving out under him, caught by quick hands on either side.

That hadn't happened to him before. Not after his starter mission on the Moon or his stint on the ISS or his Mars posting.

They didn't give him any longer to rest than it took him to find his feet again - and they timed that too. He knew they weren't doing it out of any ill-feeling - it was important to establish a baseline to compare everything else to.

Before they'd left, when he'd been chosen for the mission but still had to fight to prove himself, they'd put a case to the panel that his illness might even be useful in advancing research into conditions involving muscular dystrophy. A point in their favour, which had ended up not only being taken up but brought more researchers and additional funding into the project at the eleventh hour, and meant they’d all had to take body samples and carry out some of the simpler tests on themselves while in space. It was the reason there were a few more people around him than Sam or Matt as he performed. They'd be repeating these tests regularly to track both that and the effects of the long-term nature of the mission and how it and their readjustment to Earth’s gravity impacted on their physiology.

He managed, just barely, to walk the remainder of the distance before he was allowed to sit again. Looked at his shaking hands, chest tight as fear-laden thoughts flickered through his head - was the disease rearing its head already or was his body taking a little longer to adjust than it usually did? They'd given him two years at his peak condition and he'd thought his body's decline into weakness would be slower, but what if his time had already run out?

He wasn't so naïve as to not expect something like this. He had a degenerative illness and two years in space would have reduced his muscle mass and bone density, no matter his stringent adherence to his exercise routine and preventative medication. He'd probably done some of the illness' work for it. But there wasn't much he could do about that now - he knew his actions had consequences and he'd made his choices with his eyes wide open, no matter what Adam had thought. All he could do was deal with them as they came. Even knowing all of that, none of it stopped him from feeling the fear.

The tests of his capabilities complete, the measurements and scans came next - height, weight, lung capacity, blood pressure, bone density, muscle mass (decreases all round) - and sample taking - scrapes, blood, urine. He didn't need to focus so much for any of that, only obey their instructions as he was led to each piece of equipment, but he needed to stop his mind running in circles worrying at the implications of the test results.

It took a couple of hours, start-to-finish, before they were done with the testing, and Shiro was the last to be helped out of the MRI scanner. Matt and Sam were waiting, already changed into a set of Garrison issue scrubs and watching the assistants neatly labelling their samples for the lab. Another assistant bustled over to issue them with standard-issue, walking aids while they recovered - a common sight around the compound, identifying those recently returned from postings on space stations with low-grav environments. The crutch, already adjusted to his height, was pressed into his hands, which shook as he gripped it.

 

* * *

 

Before he’d left Earth, he'd moved his things out of Adam's apartment and put them into storage after they'd broken up. In the last period before the mission, he'd been living in temporary accommodation, generally for those on short-term postings to the base or visitors. He'd be getting officer's quarters on his return - ground floor in one of the complexes nearer to the base, mindful of his condition - but he didn't know which or if they'd be ready for him yet. And he wasn't up to the big job that would be moving his stuff out of storage right now either. Though it was strange to remember that he was alone now.  
  
Sam had told him he was coming home with them, in a tone that brooked no argument. "We'll get your things out of storage and set up your apartment on the weekend. But for now, you'll stay with us." So he'd be fine for a few days at least.  
  
But even as hard as he would find it to be alone, he desperately wanted to be in his own space again. They'd spent two years living practically on top of each other in a tiny spaceship and, with all the love in the world, they were a little fed up of each other's company and eager to see different faces.

He'd left a lot of things in a mess before he'd left though - after breaking up with Adam, he hadn't really spoken about it to his other friends either. He and Adam had shared so many friends, he'd kind of figured that since he'd be gone for a couple years, Adam could do with their support more than him. That and he'd also assumed they'd take his side. He didn't think it was unreasonable of him to want to go on the Kerberos mission, but the way Adam had acted… he certainly seemed to think Shiro was being unreasonable and self-destructive with that wish.  
  
And now it had been two years with only Adam's side of the story and Shiro wasn't sure that wouldn't be held against him. God, he'd made a hash of things. And while his friends had left him messages that had taken the better part of a day to be relayed from Earth to the Persephone, full of special little bits of news, thinking about it wasn't helping him stop feeling anxious. He wondered where the euphoria of mission success and his crowning achievement that had filled him only hours ago had gone. There were so many things to think about, now that he was back in the world.

Sam turned to him. "Colleen should be on her way now - she would have been notified of our landing. Do you have anything you want to pick up before we head back?" His voice was slurring a little as he spoke, and Shiro found some comfort that he wasn't the only one struggling with the after-effects of their mission.

"Just the lockers. I left a small bag in there with a few clothes and things, until our bags are unloaded and delivered tomorrow. Thanks for letting me stay with you, Sam."

"Hey, you're one of the family now. An honorary Holt. The brother I always wanted!" Matt was grinning as he said it, slurring a little less than Sam, but the hand that rose to slap Shiro's back was trembling. Some comfort. He thought it every time he came back to Earth, but it was hard to believe they were struggling so much with something that they'd taken for granted most of their lives. But Shiro grinned back.

"Oh? Does Colleen know? Or are you going to show up with me and tell her you're keeping me, like you picked up a stray?"

"Oh, she has good instincts, my Colleen. She knew we'd be adopting you, the first time I told her about you. You're a good young man, Takashi - you make an impact on people. There are a lot more people who care about you than you think."

The sudden sincerity of that comment made him blush, startled. He laughed and ducked his head, not knowing how to respond. Sam was looking at him, knowingly, and Matt had a little smile on his face, like he was in on whatever his father knew, and Shiro felt like he'd been left out of the joke, but it made him feel both warm and embarrassed.

Colleen, and Sam's youngest, Katie, were waiting for them in the building's main reception. They rushed forward to embrace father and son alike, Katie's questions spilling out of her, too much excitement to contain. But they weren't the only ones there.

A short but slender young man, with handsome and distinctly South American features and hair long enough to be pulled back into a small but sloppy bun, was lounging against the wall in the far corner. He waited until the commotion of the Holt's reunion died down a little before pushing himself to his feet and slouching over. But the grin spreading across his features gave away his feigned nonchalance.

"Nico!"

"Welcome back, Golden Boy! That was one hell of a landing, bro! And hey - Commander, Matt!" Nicolas Fernando Rojas, or 'Nico' for short, was one of Shiro's best friends. They'd graduated together, had actually been roommates when they'd first arrived at the Garrison and Nico's extroverted nature had meant they'd been friends ever since. Being classmates, Shiro shared most of his social circle with Adam and they'd been a pretty close-knit circle, too. And Nico was here alone. But the sight of him standing there couldn't have made him feel happier.

"What are you doing here?"

"Only meeting my best friend who's back from space after two years! What do you think, dumbass?" Nico pulled him into a powerful hug, rocking him back and forth and nearly off his feet - impressive considering Nico was about five inches shorter than Shiro. When he finally let go, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys and dangled them in Shiro's face. "Aaand, I know where your quarters are. I thought I'd come and show you to them."

"But all my stuff is still in storage. And how do you even know?" Nico was a whirlwind at the best of times. And right now, Shiro's head felt heavy and fuzzy from everything that had happened that day - he'd been in space that morning! But Nico was already leading him away and Shiro was following without resistance. So were the Holts.

"I know everything that goes on around here. Knowing things is what I'm all about. You know this about me."

"If by that, you mean I know that you're the resident gossip queen - yeah."

"I'm taking that as a compliment. And I took it upon myself to find out a month ago because I'm helpful like that. You'll like it, it's close enough to walk, but I brought Ren's car round anyway, because Space Wobblies are the worst and you guys look like you have it bad."

A car beeped, parked directly outside the reception doors across two bays that were supposed to be reserved for the department Heads in blatant irreverence. Shiro shook his head fondly at the sight.

"Tell me about it - it feels like someone amped up gravity to 5G. Hard to breathe, never mind move."

Nico nodded sagely. "It's the worst thing about space flight - the come down. But I guess being a fucking astronaut can't all be upsides, am I right?"

He helped Shiro into the car, and then the others, thankful that he'd brought his girlfriend's people carrier and was able to fit everyone in.

The drive itself was short enough that it seemed they were parking again almost immediately, in front of a rather beautiful apartment complex, with grounds that looked like they were maintained by a loving gardener who'd been allowed free reign. What few species of plants Shiro could recognise, he knew to be native to the area. Sam and Colleen at the back of their little group were commenting about how lovely the place was, sounding a little like parents dropping their child off at university.

Nico led them down a wide, even path through the greenery, vibrant and flowering, to a purple door in a sheltered patio area. He handed the keys over to Shiro with a dramatic sweep of his hand. "You want to do the honours?"

The door opened to darkness, broken as soon as he stepped over the threshold by a chorus of voices shouting, "Welcome back!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things I really hated was how isolated they made Shiro - no mention of family or friends, but we knew about everyone else’s. You really want to tell me that someone as thoughtful, kind and all round likeable as Shiro wouldn’t have lots of good friends? I don’t buy that.


	3. My Friends

Bright lights suddenly flooded the room, startling Shiro enough to step back. Blinking in surprise and confusion, he took them in.

 

There was Renee, Nico's girlfriend who had been Shiro's lab-partner in second year, beaming by the couch. The twins, Adedayo and Adenike, engineers who's gone into R&D Tejas who'd been Comms track; Minja, who gone into data analysis; Zeinab, who'd decided to teach and Kekoa, who'd gone into a post-grad programme in California the year Shiro had left - all friends Shiro had graduated with. He saw Keith standing in the corner, looking like he'd hit a growth spurt and seemingly not uncomfortable.

 

And in the midst of them all was his mother.

 

"Mom? What are you-?  _ When _ did you -?”

 

Jun Shirogane came to the fore, beaming, and enveloped him in her arms. It had been so long since he had seen her, he leaned into his mother's embrace and held her as tight as she was holding him. A stocky woman of moderate height with a weathered face and the same sharp-eyed gaze and crooked smile as her son, her arms were strong from an active life and her embrace was certainly powerful.

“It’s not every day your son comes home from the edge of the solar system! Of course I’d be here! I'm so proud of you, Takashi.”

His mother's work took her around the world, coordinating aid to crisis zones - a cool-headed and practical woman-with-a-plan whose resemblance was easy to see in her son. Shiro had spent a good portion of his life bouncing around various international schools located near the most recent disaster a few months at a time and learned how much hope came from a hand reaching out to help.

He’d grown up kicking balls around with the kids of refugees, diplomats and soldiers alike until he’d passed the entrance exams for the Garrison with some of the most impressive scores to date and become a pilot-track cadet. It was an unconventional upbringing, he knew, but she’d been a wonderful mother - when she’d been able to find the time. And the nature of her work meant that that time had been very hard to find, when the things she saw and had to deal with often left her exhausted. That she was here, now, meant a lot.

Nico came to stand before him with a smug grin, Ren coming closer to put her arm around him. 

 

"We took your things out of storage and moved it all in for you. And Ren decided where it all went, because she said she has a better sense of interior design than the rest of us. She definitely has a better sense for it than you, anyway, so I think you should leave it like this."

Shiro gawped and took a second look around the room. The flat was, indeed, beautifully laid out in a way that Shiro had never thought his well-used belongings could ever look. Someone had put pictures up, not all of them from his own collection of photos, but he could see younger versions of himself and many of them arranged on the walls in what he thought he recognised as Nike's artful touch. Low-maintenance potted plants in various corners and ledges and a few decorative elements that definitely weren't his things - probably courtesy of Kekoa's green thumb. They'd done a lot more than just move his things in. His heart suddenly felt full to bursting.

"Come and see! I think you're going to love it here!"

He already did, just for the effort they'd gone through for him, even without seeing any further in. But that was rectified almost immediately. They pulled him through a tour of the apartment, eager and excited for him to see their work, cementing his immediate love for his new home over an ever deeper appreciation of their friendship.

The apartment was spacious, feeling even more so for the fact that he'd spent the last two years in a tiny cabin. It sat on the corner of the ground floor, giving him the benefit of light and outdoor space on two sides. There were two bedrooms - more than he needed, but useful for guests as evidenced by his mother’s belongings already placed inside the smaller one. Some of his things were still in boxes waiting for him to lay them out wherever he liked, but for the most part, the place was ready for him to live in.

"Thank you, all of you. What you guys did…you have no idea how much this means to me."

"Nonsense. We're proud of you." Zeinab pushed forward and pulled him into a hug. "We were never going to let you do this alone - we're your friends." They all nodded at her words.

"And this was such a big thing to leave till you came back that it didn't seem right for you to hang around in limbo, getting it all together while you're still feeling weak from the transition effects."

Tejas slapped his back, but gently, and held on to his shoulder. "The way you were before you left as well, we weren't sure that you would think to ask for help. So we just went ahead and decided for you."

"This isn't even the full welcome party - but we thought we'd leave that until you had a bit more energy. And you still have the Official Garrison Welcome Party too, with the bigwigs and the press tour. You're going to need all your energy." Dayo had a look on his face that said he didn't envy him one bit.

Too overwhelmed for words, Shiro could only shake his head. His heart felt too full. It was Kekoa who brought everyone into a hug that was more like a rugby scrum with a bright “Reel it in, guys!” and Shiro found himself laughing into someone’s neck as an arm dragged Keith into the huddle too. 

“You guys are amazing!” he told them all as they disengaged. 

“Honestly? I loved meeting your mother - you never told us how cool she was!” Nike beamed as she went to embrace Jun. “How much longer are you staying for?”

Jun’s eyes crinkled as she smiled, a dimple in her cheek. “I’ve got a couple weeks more. I thought I'd stay and help Takashi get settled in.”

“Well, I’m coming over so we can hang out! I want to hear more of your stories - you never finished the one about Tampa!"

"I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities. But for now, who wants to eat?"

She'd made Mac and cheese. His mother's macaroni cheese had always been his favourite of her small repertoire of dishes and for it to be his first taste of food back on Earth was a definite reward. Not just that, but they'd filled his freezer too, easily portioned foods like casseroles ready for him to stick in the microwave for later - Minja and Dayo were good cooks and knew that Shiro really wasn't, and his mother wasn't actually too much better after a lifetime of cafeteria food and not much in the way of kitchen  facilities.

 

There weren't enough chairs as they served the food out and so they spread out over whatever surfaces were available, coffee-tables and floor alike. His friends were eager to know the juicy details of the mission - being a space nerd was kind of a requirement of getting into the Garrison, after all - and to catch him up on their own lives. Who'd finished their post-grad and landed a pretty good position in one of the organisations contracted to work with the Garrison on cutting-edge research (Kekoa);  who was up for a promotion and would soon be ascending rank (Minja); who was dating now (Nike and Zeinab, also a surprise to no-one because those two had been skirting around each other forever); whose sister had had a baby (Tejas, who was now a doting uncle and surprised everyone that he was good with children) and so many other things. (No-one mentioned Adam and for that, Shiro was glad, even if it felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop because someone was definitely bound to bring it up at some point, right?)

Keith spoke up over dinner, having been fairly quiet most of the evening, probably a little overwhelmed by all of Shiro’s friends together. But his face was open, not shuttered the way it would have been if he was uncomfortable. 

His voice was quiet and sincere, if gruff. “It’s good to have you back.”

Looking around the table, Shiro could honestly say, “It’s good to be back.”

If he'd ever needed proof that his friends were not only wonderful people, but also people he could unquestionably rely on, this was it. God, he had amazing friends. Just like that, they'd managed to allay all his fears. Losing Adam hadn't meant he'd lost all his friends. They weren't mad that he'd left. They were proud of him. Sated and tired, he sat back and thought about just how much he'd missed them while he'd been away as he watched them clear up.

"I told you there were a lot of people who cared about you, Takashi. You don't need to be so worried about leaning on others, especially when they're so ready and able to take the weight." Shiro turned to see Sam surveying the room with that same little smile on his face that he'd had before - he thought maybe he understood something about it now. "I guess you won't be needing to stay at ours after all."

"No, I guess I won't."

* * *

 

It wasn't long before they all filtered out. The Holts left first, Sam and Matt quickly exhausted, but impressing on Shiro that he was always welcome in their home before leaving. Though Shiro got the impression that Katie had been incredibly excited to be around so many Garrison graduates and could have easily spent the entire night pressing each of them with questions.

After that, the rest of them followed. Nico, however, lingered on the doorstep, something unusually hesitant about his posture. He looked like he wanted to say something, but sighed and shook his head instead. Instead, he turned and beckoned to Keith. 

“Come on, kid. I’ll give you a ride back to the dorms.”

And wasn't that something to note. Shiro had been careful to introduce Keith to only one or two of his friends at a time before he’d left, and let him know that he could go to any of them for help in his absence. Seeing him today, the way he'd been among them - quiet but not uncomfortable - showed that they had helped him and he’d had enough interactions with them to be able to let his guard down somewhat. He'd seemed a lot less guarded than Shiro had known him to be two years ago. 

 

As he looked out into the growing darkness of the approach that would become a regular view, his mother was already inside making herself some tea. It was a familiar sight, a routine he had seen her follow countless nights before bed. He followed her in, feeling giddy and blessed. 

 

"This was amazing! I don't know how you guys managed all of this and I don't know how to even begin saying thank you." 

 

She pushed the second cup on the counter towards him before taking her own and then peered at him thoughtfully over the rim as she sipped it, her eyes still lit with quiet pride and a soft smile playing at her lips.

 

"You have some very good friends, Takashi. And I'm proud of you, not just because of what you've accomplished, but because it reflects on you. It's a mark of your character that they  care so much about you. I don't think any mother could wish for more - I don't know how much of it was me, but I'm going to take credit for it anyway!"

 

She said it with a smile but she had never been the sort of person to dole out compliments lightly, and always made a point to give it where it was due with a firm sincerity. He ducked his head, feeling his face flush at her words, warmth that spread throughout his body. It wasn't just praise - it was love and validation.

 

One by one, it was like his strings were being reconnected, the ties that bound him pulled tighter and the knots strengthened. Adrift in space, the joy of fulfilling his dreams was soured by the thought that he had no-one to share it with, the hurt from Adam’s rejection leaving him wondering if everyone he knew would consider him a burden as well and would take the opportunity of his absence to leave him. 

But they hadn’t. They’d rallied around him instead, pulled him back to his place in the web of their lives, anchoring him there, wanting to share in his happiness, celebrating in what he’d achieved, and wanting him to share in theirs too. He felt a little ashamed that he'd ever doubted them, but it was washed away by the more positive feelings coursing through him. 

 

He reached for his cup, aware that his mother could see how much his hand was trembling and brought it closer to his body for stability. He was tired, exhausted by a different sort of jetlag that came from returning to Earth from space-travel, and the tiredness made the shaking worse. But he’d had months to get used to it now, and years to come to terms with it. 

 

“We always expected this, mom.” He said it softly, only a little defensive. 

"You've lost weight. Too much."

He shrugged. He couldn't have helped that.

 

She couldn’t seem to pull her eyes away. “When are you seeing your doctor?”

 

“She said she wanted to see me as soon as possible when I came back and that she’d clear her schedule to make it happen. I’ll call her in the morning.” He didn’t know why he hesitated before he asked, “Do you...want to come with me?”

 

“Of course. I wanted to anyway. I’ve tried to learn what I can myself but...this disease seems to be different for everyone.”

 

He wasn’t surprised, but it still made him stop short, that she’d spent her time researching his illness by herself while he’d been gone. She was a practical woman - she probably knew more than him. He’d been diagnosed during the selection process for the Kerberos mission and he hadn’t had the time to dig further into it - hadn’t wanted to lose his focus, because it would have been too much to cope with. As soon as he’d known his disease wasn’t fatal - chronic and degenerative, but not terminal - he’d put it to the back of his mind. Compartmentalised it, because there was nothing he could do about it, and concentrated on what he could do - he’d learned how to be practical from her. Why give up when his dreams were still achievable, after all? 

 

She laid her hand over his trembling one and squeezed. He ducked his head, warmed. 

 

“We’ll take it as it comes. You always try too hard to take everything onto your shoulders, but just remember you’re not alone.”

 

“Yeah….”

 

Her eyes searched his face for something, earnest as if she could pour her strength into him through her gaze alone. He didn’t know what she was looking for or if she found it, but she let her gaze drift away from his with an explosive sigh, resting on one of the many photos on the far wall. Some of the photos there were from his childhood and he knew that she must have been the one who brought them. 

 

“I wish your grandfather could have seen you - he would have been so proud of you and what you’ve achieved, he wouldn’t have known what to do with himself.”

 

That was true. The thought made him smile. His grandfather had normally been quite a placid man in temperament, but he’d passed his love of the sky to his grandson and those were the two things he’d get excited about. He’d been so happy when Shiro had been accepted into the Garrison, but he’d died not long after in Shiro’s third year and never seen him graduate. His smile was bittersweet. 

 

Remembering his grandfather had him remembering just how long he’d held the dream that he’d achieved close to his heart. So many memories of sitting in his grandfather’s lap, eagerly listening and learning as he pointed out both different types of cloud formations and constellations. As a child, the ceiling over his bed in his grandfather’s house had been covered in glow in the dark stars and he would raise his hands against them and fall asleep dreaming of touching them. Renewed pride bloomed in his heart.

 

They didn’t stay up very much longer, though they had a lot to catch up with each other on, his yawning punctuating their conversation. His mother laughed at him as he shuffled off to his bedroom and he listened to the familiar sound of her as he settled - she had a habit of reading with music in the background before bed as a way to wind herself down - and let her soothing soundtrack lull him to sleep. Whatever anxieties he had about what lay ahead couldn’t currently hold a candle to the fulfillment of a goal achieved. Whatever the future brought, he could take it on - it was worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never really been the sort to have a lot of OCs, and would usually head!canon Shiro as an orphan, but I could not bring myself to do that after the lengths the last few seasons of VLD went to isolate him. And given the reasons that he was chosen to be the Black Paladin, he is absolutely the sort of person who would be popular and have a tight-knit group of friends who would go to the ends of the earth for him. And so I set about trying to populate his world and I hope you like them. Please let me know what you think!


	4. Let Me Live

The hospital was on the edge of town, a half hour drive out of the self-contained community of the Garrison base. A modern, beautiful building with facilities on the cutting edge of technology that benefited from the Garrison's own advanced scientific research and treated many of its astronauts and pilots. The last time Shiro had been there, it was to have his electro-cuff calibrated before launch.

Dr Chaya Shirodkar met him in her well-lit office, looking much the same as when he had last seen her. She was a lovely woman and an exceedingly good doctor, but he couldn’t help the way his stomach clenched, even in the face of the gentle smile she gave in greeting. The day of his diagnosis had been the same and he could still remember the sound of her voice as she'd said the words and the way he'd clung onto Adam's hand as if his life depended on it, scared and desperately in need of grounding.

This time, his mother was with him and he felt steadier. Introductions made, they sat and  proceeded to catch each other up. 

“Welcome back! And congratulations!” His lips stretched into a grin, almost of their own volition, wide and happy. “I didn’t doubt you could do it - that’s why I gave you the all clear, after all. But I think you exceeded everyone’s expectations. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

He was - he’d been working towards this particular accomplishment his entire life, after all. And she’d been instrumental in his achievement - he wasn’t sure he could thank her enough. “I am. Thank you for clearing me - I wouldn’t have been able to do it if you and Sam hadn’t been backing me.”

Her normally sharp-eyed gaze softened, and her smile was gentle. “You have a resilience that I don’t see often, Takashi. That was why I did it. But enough about that now. You achieved what you did on your own merit, not mine. How do you feel?” 

His smile wavered and he took a breath to centre himself. This was just another debrief, like so many he’d done in his life, but the subject was his body. 

“Tired. But I have experience from previous missions and I know some of that is re-acclimatization.”

“But it’s not all re-acclimatization? You know that, how?” Her gaze was sharp again as she listened, a furrow in her brow. Once, he’d thought it meant something worrying, but had since learnt it was only in concentration, when she knew something was important and her mind was busy trying to put the pieces together.

“Because I’ve been feeling it for a while. You’ll get my logs along with the other data - I started noting a growing fatigue a few months ago. The time cycles we were keeping in space probably didn’t help either.” They’d ended up adjusting them, to give him a little more time to rest, but it didn’t change the fact that they had to do everything between just the three of them. Not the only reason, but plans always needed a certain degree of flexibility - that far away from home, no-one wanted to develop cabin fever with the only other humans around. 

She added that to her notes with a nod. “Ok, fatigue. And what about the muscle spasms and tremors?”

He looked down at his hands, at the cuff poking out from his shirt sleeve, and flexed his fingers. He’d always prized their dexterity. “They’ve increased - the spasms, cramping, tremors - all of it. Body aches too. And it’s affected by the fatigue. It’s definitely worse when I’m tired.”

“Hmm….” she leaned forward, looking pointedly at his hands, “And how have your cuffs been performing?”

Pushing his sleeve back, he rolled his wrist forward for a better view of the cuff. It sat with a very specific placement on his wrist, just under the meat of his palm and covering the cluster of veins underneath it. It had been calibrated to monitor and react to the neurological impulses in his muscles to pre-empt any spasms with its own electrical impulse. When he’d first been fitted for it, it had only done so maybe twice a day, but it had taken him by surprise every time. Shocked him, if you will. He hadn’t been able to help flinching, tensing as he tried to anticipate it, hissing at each zap. Now, the cuff went off every few hours and his tolerance had risen considerably, but it still wasn’t a pleasant sensation and one he could quite happily live without. But that didn’t seem like an option anymore.

“They’re performing as anticipated. Going off a lot more - maybe averaging about ten times a day now. I’m getting used to it.”

She held her hand out and he placed his wrist in it to allow her to check the cuff’s settings. They couldn’t be altered from the device itself, only seen and there was a limited amount of memory for data on how frequently it discharged over the past month. He’d plugged it into the ship’s computer regularly, whereupon it would back up the data and send it back to Earth - there it would have been analysed by medical professionals who could then upload any changes needed to its programme, which would be loaded the next time he plugged it in. A convoluted way of doing things, but the only way available so far away in space when data transmissions had taken the better part of a day even for small files, and larger amounts took even longer.  

She hummed at what she saw and released him to type a few notes, before turning back to him. 

“And what about your other senses? Any effects there?”

“No.” That, at least, he could say definitively. 

“Ok.” She looked at her screen, considering her notes for a moment before turning back to him and nodding decisively. “I think we should start you on a new physio-therapy routine. The aim is not to develop muscle tone - your body wouldn’t cope well with the tear and repair cycle that entails. Rather, we need to keep you limber. You’ll need regular sessions with Taika and a new exercise regimen. I won’t make any other changes in terms of medication and treatment until we’ve had a chance to review all of the data, so carry on with that as normal. How much medication do you have left?” 

“A couple months’ worth.”

“I don’t anticipate you’ll need to use all of it. Now, do you have any questions for me?”

His mother leaned forward before he could say anything. “I understand there are many possible symptoms - is there any way to know which will affect my son and what that will mean for his treatment? I would like to understand a little more about the changes in lifestyle that will be needed going forward, in view of both his illness and its treatment.”

It was the first thing she’d said through the consultation, sitting quietly and listening. Dr Shirodkar took a considering pause before answering, her eyes compassionate. “Komarov’s Disease can manifest very differently from person to person so treatment isn’t particularly standardised - add to that periods of remitting and relapsing, there are a lot of factors to take into account. Right now we’re still in the preventative stage where we’re still able to delay the onset of many of the most common symptoms, but we won’t be able to delay them too much longer. 

“Physiotherapy will play an important part in treatment at all stages. But we don’t know the rate at which the muscular atrophy will progress - in Shiro it seems to be targeting the upper body and primarily the right arm. If it were to target the lower body, we’d anticipate wheelchair use, but we can’t yet know how it’ll spread. We’ll look to treat the tremors and spasms, but that will depend on its progression. We will also have to think about the management of chronic pain and the fact that the immune system will be compromised too. 

“I don’t want to overdo testing - they can be unpleasant and invasive experiences, which only increase anxiety. But I assure you, I will be monitoring every symptom and change and working closely to find the most suitable way to treat the condition.

“As for lifestyle - do you still have the information about the Komarov’s Disease Association? I know it’s been a while since I gave it to you, but they have group meet ups every month. Did you have a chance to go?”

Shiro shook his head. He hadn’t gone. Preparing for the mission had taken up all his time and he hadn’t been able to face the prospect of seeing others with his diagnosis and sight of what might be waiting for him in his future. Besides, they hadn’t wanted to be public about his illness before Kerberos, given how it would have affected the publicity. He didn’t need to imagine the news cycles running stories about their concern that the pilot for humanity’s most ambitious space mission was in ill health with a chronic degenerative condition, and then more stories about the condition itself, and then more stories about the risks he would present and whether he was the right choice. 

By now, most people in the world knew his face - the Kerberos launch had been broadcast all over the world and there had been frequent news updates on their progress. He’d filmed a few of the clips they’d sent out himself. And while it was less risky now that everything was over and done with, going to a group would be as good as telling the whole world. He didn’t feel ready for that. Even sitting here, discussing his illness plainly was only just bearable,  bordering on too much. What would it be, to go and see others in more advanced stages of his illness and wonder which of those possibilities would be his future?

There was too much understanding in her eyes. She turned and clicked around on her computer screen and he felt his personal comms device buzz - she’d sent him an information link. “I believe those who share your diagnosis would be the best equipped to share knowledge about other changes they’ve faced and the ways in which they’ve adapted.”

She’d given him a much larger information pack, in hard copy, on the day of his diagnosis. It wasn’t just about his illness, but also information about talking to family and friends, workplace arrangements, financial planning and more. He’d skimmed through it briefly and then put it away, not wanting to face the enormity of it. He’d have to dig it out again, he supposed, but wasn’t sure how much he wanted to. 

Suddenly tired, he sat back, mind wandering into blankness and no longer listening to his mother and doctor discussing what was happening to his body. Even without all of this, being back on Earth was a strange transition. There was so much to do, just living, all of it so mundane and his brain was full with it. 

He’d have to review his finances - two years wages, sitting unspent in his account, but what about his pension? He should probably increase his pension contributions, given that he’d probably have to retire early once his health deteriorated enough - but by how much? Should his healthcare costs come into it, or should he budget that differently? How long would it need to last? How would he know? 

He was comfortably self-sufficient right now. He earned enough to provide for himself and not worry about money, being the Garrison’s best pilot. He’d always been incredibly independent, even as a child, but now he was learning to treasure it - how much longer would it last? What wouldn’t he be able to do?

The worst thing about it all was the uncertainty. How much he didn’t know and how much he was afraid to know. He’d always had a goal to strive towards, something to drive him forward, and now the goal just seemed to be about surviving. Before, he’d always felt like he could weather any uncertainty with just the belief he had in himself. He had faith in his abilities, worked hard to hone them, knew his worth and never needed to question it. He hadn’t joined the Garrison for money or fame or power. All he’d ever wanted was to see what was out there, to learn and experience what the universe had to offer, and he’d thought that maybe what he had to offer in return was worth it. Looking back, he thinks maybe that was arrogant, or too close to the line between that and confident. Maybe the universe was punishing him for the sin of hubris. 

Now he didn’t know how long his body would be able to do not only the things he had trained it to do, but also the things he took for granted. His strength and dexterity, his resilience, his skill, his flexibility, even his ability to move, maybe even his ability to think. In some ways, he thought it might be better not to know, to just live each day as best as he could until he couldn’t. But he also knew he needed to prepare for the reality of what it meant, so that he would be better able to adapt. 

The meeting ended while he wasn’t listening - perhaps _because_ he wasn’t listening - and they left after scheduling their next appointment. His mother tilted her head at him in silent enquiry of his thoughts, but he stayed quiet until they were back in her rented car. 

“The next KDA meeting is the week after next - do you want to go?” she asked, after they’d been driving in silence for a while.

Not really. She read his response on his face and nodded, accepting that he wasn’t ready. “Would you mind if I went?”

That made him pause. He supposed he couldn’t really say no to that, so he shrugged instead. “If you want.”

“OK.” She didn’t push more than that. 

* * *

 

The days after that were spent doing things a little at a time, with whatever energy he had - a reserve that was growing, but slower than he liked. Garrison testing happened everyday to measure his recovery rate and also the Holts’. He started physiotherapy, which seemed to help accelerate the pace of it and certainly made him feel better to be doing something physical than sitting around and resting. 

When he felt up to it, they drove out into the desert and wilderness bordering the base, just for a change of scenery, and he showed his mother where some good hiking trails were, because he knew she was feeling a little restless doing things at his pace. He avoided going into town where civilians and the press would be able to catch him, not ready for publicity to start, so she went without him some days and one of his friends would drop in on him on other days. 

Neither of them being particularly good cooks, their meals were a mix of relatively quick and simple rustle-ups and something pulled out of the freezer at random from what his friends had made and put in there. A lottery of curry or casserole or something equally delicious that they only figured out once defrosted and heated. But one day he came home to the mouth-watering smell of fragrantly spiced lamb that he recognised instantly - Adam’s mother’s tagine. It was the only recipe she had passed to her son that Adam had never changed a single detail of and she had made it for Shiro many a time because he had loved it. 

Just the smell had him unsure of what to feel. Though he had no way of knowing who it was made by, it always made him think of her. Adam’s mother, Amina, was a loving and generous woman, who had embraced him as a part of the family almost instantly and proceeded to treat him as her own son. She would have been a wonderful mother-in-law. It felt strange to admit how much he missed her, but the strangest part of breaking up with someone was that it meant breaking up with their family too, and without a lot of closure for those relationships either. He remembered that she’d called him before the launch to wish him luck on his mission and only acknowledged what had happened to his relationship with a terse, “My son can be a stubborn sort of idiot.”

He approached the counter where his mother was preparing a simple salad accompaniment and nodded to the oven. “Where did you get that?”

She looked up, seeing something in his face, and shrugged, “It was in the freezer, at the back.”

Which meant Adam had been here then, at some point while she and his friends had been preparing the apartment for their surprise. But he hadn’t shown his face to Shiro since and she hadn’t thought to say anything about it either. 

“Why didn’t you say anything.”

“There’s not much to say.” She had a point, he supposed. She was open with the fact that she absolutely held the fact that Adam had broken her son’s heart against him and wasn’t particularly thinking of them getting back together. And it warmed Shiro’s heart that she would be angry on his behalf, when he hadn’t really had the energy or the time to do so himself. So he shrugged and let it go. 

The next day, Nico took him out to eat at one of the nicer food spots inside the base because he had news and wanted an appropriate setting to break it. He broke it by waving his left hand proudly in front of Shiro's face, to show him the beautiful ring that now adorned it. 

"I'm engaged! Look! Look what Ren got me!" 

It was a truly happy surprise. Though they had taken a while to get together, spending years as friends first while Nico had been living a carefree life of casual relationships (which he laughingly called his ‘slutty days’) and Ren had been concentrating on her studies and career, they were clearly perfect for each other. It had only been a matter of time.

"Oh my god! Ren proposed? When did this happen?"

Nico’s face was glowing. "Technically, we both proposed, I had a ring in my pocket too - she just managed to ask the question first. It was months ago, our anniversary. You were still pretty far out and I wanted to tell you in person, instead of over a transmission. But also, I have a very important question to ask you."

"What?"

His face suddenly serious, but his eyes still twinkling, Nico reached out across the table for Shiro’s hand. "Takashi Shirogane. Will you do me the honour of being my best man?"

He burst out laughing, squeezing Nico’s hand before letting go to swat at him. He’d asked Nico to be his best man, before. "Man, I'm so happy for you. Of course, you know I will. So, when is it?"

“Well, we’ve got most of it planned out and some of it even booked. Ren wanted a spring wedding, but April can be iffy with the weather and we wanted it to be outdoors, so we’ve gone for May to be safer. She’s already bought her dress, and I kind of know what I want but I haven’t got it yet. But also….

His face sobered and he bit his lip. “Listen, I’ve been friends with both you and Adam for a long time - nearly the beginning - but you first. He’s going to be at the wedding, obviously, but would it make you uncomfortable if I asked him to be one of my groomsmen?”

Shiro wasn’t going to let himself examine whether he would or wouldn’t be. “I - of course not. It’s been two years since we broke up and I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. You don’t think I’m still hung up over him, do you?”

“No! No, not all!” Hands up in defense, Nico shifted in his chair, unconvincing. 

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you didn’t tell me that Adam was there when you were preparing your surprise?”

“What? How…?”

“The tagine.”

“Oh.” Nico sighed, “he dropped it off before he left for a mission in eastern Russian - he’ll be gone for about a month. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, I just... didn’t know how you would take it.”

“So what, you think I’m going to try to get back with him?” Shiro was aware his voice sounded accusatory and defensive, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

Nico shook his head, face more sincere when he leaned forward. “No, really, I don’t. But. Adam was your first boyfriend. And even if you took a casual approach to relationships the way I did, your first is different. I watched you guys get together when you were seventeen, and stay together for what, six years? And when you broke up, you never said anything before you left. Not to _me_. 

“And I’m not saying you need to be in a relationship to be happy, and you’ve got so much else going for you, but you liked being in a relationship and I feel like what Adam did shook you enough that maybe you don’t feel confident about getting into another relationship again. So maybe you’re over Adam, but there’s more to it than that. Am I wrong?”

Was he wrong? He'd made his choice. He didn't regret it. He'd dreamed, since he was a child, of achieving what he had on the Kerberos mission. He'd been to the edge of the system. Further than anyone else. Into the great unknown, where only unmanned craft had ever glimpsed. His name was now included on a very small and exclusive list of astronauts who had explored and expanded humankind's knowledge of the final frontier. And he was proud of it. 

But the fact that he was alone came with the reminder that he'd been left, and that hurt. Because he'd been too much to deal with, not worth sticking with or sticking around for. That his dreams hadn't been worth supporting and the support was conditional on giving his last two years of good health to Adam, rather than to his dreams, as if the relationship was a debt he owed. Adam had proposed to him before he’d been diagnosed and he remembered the numbness of those first few days when he’d wondered if he should give the ring back, but he’d also desperately needed to lean on someone and it didn’t _look_ like Adam was leaving. Shiro had thought maybe being engaged meant they were ready to commit their lives to each other ‘for better or worse’, so maybe it was ok to lean on him. When he had left though, he’d made it Shiro’s fault - _Shiro_ being ill was too much for _Adam_ to take, and he’d left Adam no choice but to walk away so _Adam_ could avoid being hurt more. That had felt like a kick in the teeth. 

And who was going to want to date Shiro now anyway, when he had no more good health to give? If six years of being together hadn’t given Adam a reason to stay, even after proposing, then why would anyone else? Who would want to be in a relationship with a burden they would have to look after? So no, he didn’t think his chances of getting into another relationship were particularly good. And Nico, casually perceptive as always and with the benefit of having known him for a long time, had been able to sense that there was an issue. 

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face. Nico grimaced, apologetic for having broached the topic so bluntly, and Shiro in turn felt guilty because this occasion was meant to be about Nico’s happy news. 

“Listen, I know exactly what will help you.” 

Shiro felt immediately wary at that, because that tone of voice from Nico had never lead to anything good before. But he couldn’t stop his curiosity from showing. 

“You need to get laid. No, hear me out - it’ll be good for you and it’ll ease you back into the game. There’s nothing wrong with sleeping around, as long as there’s mutual respect between you and your partner. Be clear about what you want. It’ll be good for you, I promise. We’ll take you out, get you drunk and find you some good dick. You're way overdue some rebound sex anyway - you've been stuck up in space with Skinny McNerd-face and his dad, not even any eye-candy for two years. It's no wonder."

He opened his mouth to object, but the protest died on his lips. He thought about it. It was a fact, he hadn't had sex in more than two years. And he _missed_ it. He _liked_ sex. Like the intimacy, the physicality, all of it. He'd never done so before, but maybe treating it casually _was_ the answer.

So in the end, all that came out of his mouth was a weak defense. "Hey! Matt's a friend! You can't talk about him like that."

Nico only smiled. "Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Doesn't change the fact, it would take a pretty drastic make-over to turn him into eye-candy. He's not your type anyway."

"I don't know what my type is. Adam was my first boyfriend." Shiro pointed out.

"Oh please, you kissed boys before Adam - you just didn't date them."

"I dated Adam since I was seventeen - I was a little young to do much with anyone else."

"Alright, well _I_ know your type and I'm a great wingman - I won't let any assholes come near you, I promise. You don’t have to take anything further than you want to."

So he followed along and, dutifully, set himself to getting ready on the day as he was told to. If nothing else, he could do with a drink anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave Shiro's illness a fictional illness to give myself leeway in the portrayal, but a lot of my research has been around Multiple Sclerosis, Motor Neuron Disease and Kennedy's disease - I want to be sensitive in my depiction of disability, but I'm not a medical professional. If anyone reading this has any insight, please don't hesitate to tell me. But yeah, let me know what you think of this chapter.


End file.
